


Two Households, Both Alike in Dignity

by Hakanaki



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Fluff, Gen, Post-Season/Series 10, Romeo and Juliet References, Shakespeare
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-25
Updated: 2017-11-25
Packaged: 2019-02-06 12:06:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12817167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hakanaki/pseuds/Hakanaki
Summary: “Caboose, I have a wonderful idea,” he starts, and then pauses.“Yes? What is the idea? Are we going to ride horses? Oh, oh! We’re going to ride mutant alien horses! That eat people! We can feed them Tucker so that they will let us ride them!”“What? No,” Donut cries, horrified. “I was just pausing for dramatic effect! We should put on a play!”--Or, that time the Reds and Blues had enough free time for a Shakespeare revival.





	Two Households, Both Alike in Dignity

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sentaidash](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sentaidash/gifts).



> So! This is my RvBRBB story for the delightful [Sentaidash](https://sentaidash.tumblr.com/)!!! This fic forced me to reread Shakespeare, which meant I got to remember all sorts of awesome gems, and it was a _blast_ to write and play around with! Everyone should go check out Sen's stuff and the rest of the Reverse Big Bang!!

Franklin Delano Donut knows that in times of stress, there is one essential beauty aspect to _always_ remember to keep up, and that essential beauty aspect is skin care. Rain or shine, whether being shot at by the blues, beat up by a room full of Agent Texas robots, or enduring the emotional aftermath of killing the Director.

His skin wouldn’t survive the stress of these things without a little tender love and care, after all.

So, when the UNSC decided to set them up at temporary bases until they could finally go home, Donut took matters into his own hands and claimed the balcony of Red Base for his own. Simmons tries to call it a battlement, or a lookout nook, or something equally _drab,_ but Donut knows a balcony when he sees one. And balconies are _excellent_ for suntanning. He had always known keeping coconut oil in one of his armor compartments would pay off one day.

He spent the entire morning creating the proper suntanning environment, setting out lawn chairs constructed from spare plastic parts Sarge had pried off of a warthog and almost a third of his stash of nylons, and positioning mirrors strategically to make the most of the afternoon heat. Finally finished, he coerces Grif into massaging coconut oil into his back and settles into the surprisingly comfortable lawn chair with a well-deserved sigh of release.

Self-care is wonderful. If only he could’ve convinced the rest of the team. Then it could’ve been self-care _and_ bonding time. They could’ve lubed each other up!

“Corporal Pound Cake!”

Oh, how wonderful cake would be… if only Grif wouldn’t eat it all before he could even have a slice…

“ _Corporal Pound Cake!_ ”

 _Lemon_ pound cake would just be exquisite, but if he _could_ make pound cake, it should theoretically be red. Strawberry, maybe, with lemon icing. Donut thinks he could manage to convince Sarge on the lemon icing.

Something metallic and loud clangs against the edge of the balcony--

“Aha! Corporal Pound Cake!”

\--bounces on the wall a few times--

“I got your attention! I have such good aim!”

\--and shatters one of the mirrors.

“It was not me! I did not do that! I was never here!”

Donut peers over the edge of the balcony. Nothing kills the mood quite like banging.

“Caboose!” he calls out. “Did you come to visit me? You should’ve used the front door! I’ve really spruced up the foyer!”

“For yay? Yay for what?”

“No, the _foyer_! The room where everyone strips down!”

“General Bearclaw, you are very strange.”

No one ever appreciates fine living. “Never mind! What do you need me for, Caboose? I just polished everyone’s cod pieces last week!”

A pause. Donut takes a moment to appreciate that he can hear some kind of cricket nearby. He wonders if he can convince anyone to go hiking with him. Wilderness hikes are a great way to get all hot and sweaty with the boys.

“I forgot,” Caboose says blankly.

He sighs. Of all the ways his sunbathing had to be interrupted! He peers down at Caboose again, ready to start to play the what-did-you-need guessing game, when he notices that Caboose is standing right in front of his rose bush.

“Hey… you know what this looks like, right?”

“A naked blonde man talking to me from the sky?” Caboose shouts.

“No! Well, yes, but it’s just like Romeo and Juliet! How _romantic_ , Caboose!” he says. An idea comes to him. “Oh, Caboose, Caboose! Wherefore art thou _Caboose?_ Deny thy teammates and refuse Blue Team! Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love, and I’ll no longer be a Red!” he cries, draping himself artfully over the balcony in supplication.

There is a beat of silence, and Donut is about to rise gracefully when Caboose replies.

“Aside! Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this!” he cries, searching the rose bush.

Donut straightens up, shocked. “Caboose! You know Romeo and Juliet?”

Caboose nods. “Oh, yes,” he says gravely. “It is one of the most important Shakespeare plays ever. Of all time!”

“I agree!” Donut says, delighted. He folds his arms on the balcony and stares down at Caboose again, thoughtful. They have a lot of free time at these temporary bases. Sarge hasn’t launched a sneak attack on the blues in a few days, possibly because the last time he tried, Carolina beat him up. Sarge has some issues to work through about being hit by girls.

“Caboose, I have a wonderful idea,” he starts, and then pauses.

“Yes? What is the idea? Are we going to ride horses? Oh, oh! We’re going to ride _mutant alien horses!_ That eat people! We can feed them Tucker so that they will let us ride them!”

“What? No,” Donut cries, horrified. “I was just pausing for dramatic effect! We should put on a play!”

“A play?”

“Not just _any_ play,” he continues, leaning forward.

“Hamilton?” Caboose interrupts, suddenly looking very interested.

“If _only!”_ Donut groans. “But I don’t think we can get these boys tight enough with their vocals yet. Caboose, we should put on Romeo and Juliet!”

Caboose gasps and gives Donut a piercing stare--well, as piercing a stare as one can give through a helmet. “Colonel Danish, that is the best idea you have ever had.”

“Thank you, Caboose,” he says beatifically. “But I still think my best idea was the lube slip and slide.”

“Another noble cause,” Caboose agrees. “Ah, but Commander Petit Four?”

“Yes, Caboose?”

“How will we decide who plays who? I don’t think we have enough people…”

Donut grins, standing up straight with his hands braced on the balcony promisingly. “I have an idea.”

* * *

 

Donut decides to talk to Grif and Simmons first, because they’re always together, which is both romantic and convenient.

“Let me get this straight,” Grif says, lounging in the back of the Warthog. “You wanna put on some shitty ass play--”

Donut gasps, affronted. “It’s _Romeo and Juliet,_ Dexter Grif!”

“Like I said, some shitty ass play, and you want _us_ to be your actors.”

“Yes!” Donut says, beaming. “I think you’ll make an _excellent_ Gregory! Gregory Grif! And Simmons, I can’t think of a better Sampson! Puh- _leeeeease_ , guys!” he begs, clasping his hands together. “I can’t do this play without a Gregory or a Sampson! It just won’t be the same!”

Simmons pokes his head out from behind the Warthog. Ever since Sarge made the conversion to diesel, it’s a several hour process to refuel it, and one of Grif’s duties, which means it’s actually one of Simmons’ duties.

“Aren’t Gregory and Sampson just those two guys from the beginning? They don’t even show up after the first scene!”

“But that scene builds up the tension of the _entire play,_ Simmons! The drama of the feud between the Montagues and the Capulets! The sexual tension between the two families!”

“The _what?_ ” Simmons starts to say, dropping a wrench.

“Wait, hold on,” Grif interrupts. “These two characters are only in the beginning?”

“That’s right!” Donut confirms.

“How many lines does Gregory have?” Grif continues, tilting his head.

Donut pulls up the script on his datapad. “Let’s see…less than twenty!” he says, flipping through the pages. “But you can make it your own if you’d like! You know, for dramatic _flair._ New lines, ejaculations, anything!”

“Donut, I think you mean _interjections_ ,” Simmons corrects in a strangled voice.

“Hmm, no, I don’t think so!” Donut says cheerfully.

“We’ll do it,” Grif says suddenly.

“We will?” Simmons questions, coming out from behind the Warthog.

“Simmons, think about it. Twenty lines in the beginning and then we can go take a nap!” Grif says. “It’s the best idea you’ve had all week, Donut.”

“Thanks, Grif!” Donut beams. “But don’t speak too soon! I think I’ll have that lube-scented candle formula perfected by Saturday!”

A sudden hush falls over the yard, mostly due to Simmons dropping the wrench again.

“That’s uh. Great, Donut,” Grif manages.

* * *

 

“--and then _you_ will say ‘But Caboose! Why are you mad!’ and _I_ will say ‘Not mad, but bound more than a mad man is; shut up in prison, kept without my food!’ Oh. I am hungry. Would you like a cracker, Church?”

“Jesus Christ,” Church says, which Caboose knows actually means he’s very interested. His little avatar slumps forward on the rock he’s sitting on. “Caboose, I _know_ what Benvolio says to Romeo. I’m a computer, remember? Got it all right here!” He points to his head.

“All the information is only in your tiny robot head?” Caboose says suspiciously, leaning over Church.

“No! I mean-- whatever, yes. Yes, that’s exactly where it is, Caboose.”

“I am very smart,” Caboose confirms with a nod.

“Well, you  _do_ have a scarily encyclopedic knowledge of Shakespeare,” Church says. “Hey, Carolina!” he calls. “Who are _you_ going to be?”

Carolina looks up from where she’s polishing her greave, glaring at Church. Which is silly! You can’t hurt holograms with glares. Only people.

“You have to be there for me to be there,” Church says gleefully. “So you might as well.”

“Absolutely not,” she says tersely, going back to her polishing. “We don’t have time for these antics. The UNSC ships to take us back to Blood Gulch will be here any day now.”

“And how are we gonna prepare for them? Stand around with our thumbs up our asses?” Church points out.

“I hate that game,” Caboose mutters.

“We might as well,” Church continues. “Besides, I wanna see Tucker make an ass out of himself.”

“You can see that any day,” Carolina says. Caboose thinks that she may have a point there.

“Please, Agent Carolina?” Caboose asks. “Will you please help us put on the best play ever? Of all time?”

Carolina sighs and looks at him. He does his best puppy eyes and even juts his lip out.

“She can’t see your face, dumbass,” Church says from his rock.

“It will work,” Caboose assures him.

“It absolutely will not,” Church counters.

“ _Fine,_ ” Carolina hisses after a moment. Church sputters in shock “Since we apparently have nothing better to do.”

“Trust me, Carolina,” Church says. “We don’t.”

* * *

Donut is feeling emboldened about their theater production with every hour. He thinks he has a wonderful script, and everyone is so enthusiastic about joining up! Even Lopez seems to be on board!

 _“Absolutely not. Absolutely not. Absolutely not. Absolutely not._ ”

“Oh, Lopez,” Donut gushes. “I know you’re excited, but you didn’t let me finish! We think you’ll make a great narrator.”

“ _Absolutely not. Absolutely not. Absolutely not. Absolutely not.”_

“I’ll get you the script as soon as it’s finalized! Jeez, so pushy! Now, do you think you’re going to perform in accent? Because there’s something about that accent! Really makes it feel _European_ , you know?” Donut rambles, looking over his script notes.

“ _Absolutely not. Absolutely not. Absolutely not. Absolutely not.”_

“Great!” Donut beams. “I’m glad you agree, Lopez!”

Sarge barrels into the armory. “What’s all that racket in here! Donut! Why are you distracting Lopez from his work?”

Lopez doesn’t even pause from his task of soldering together a truly absurd number of shotguns. Sarge’s newest project, the Ring of Shotgun, is the stuff of nightmares. Or, at least it will be the stuff of the _Blues_ ’ nightmares, if all goes according to plan.

“Sarge!” Donut cries, standing up from his perch on an empty tank of diesel. “I’m glad you’re here!”

Sarge grunts, brushing past Donut to inspect Lopez’s work. “Lopez! This isn’t _nearly_ enough guns! The Ring of Shotgun needs to have as much firepower as 500 shotguns!”

“ _It is physically impossible for me to create a ring of 500 shotguns.”_

“Donut, translation duty!”

Donut glances up from his script. “He says that a ring of 500 shotguns wouldn’t look good with red armor at _all_ ,” he explains, waving his datapad pen at Sarge.

“Lopez!” Sarge cries, affronted. “Now isn’t the time for aesthetics! We need to make sure this baby can _kill,_ ” he says, the light from the armory glinting off of his helmet menacingly.

Donut makes another note on the script, gasping in delight as something just _clicks._ It’s going to be _perfect._

“Donut!” Sarge shouts. “What did I tell you about private time inside your armor?”

“What?” Donut says, looking up. “Don’t be silly, Sarge! I wouldn’t do that _here!_ ” He shudders. “The armory just doesn’t have the right _mood._ Now, if I could just set up some candles, play some soft music, and redecorate--”

“Absolutely not,” Sarge deadpans. “I’ve already told you--the armory is a masculine place full of masculine energy!”

“I still think I could make it even _more_ masculine with mood music,” Donut laments with a sigh. He shakes his head and turns back to the script.

“So uh,” Sarge continues, peering at him intensely. “What _are_ you working on, then?”

“I’m glad you asked!” Donut says, turning with a dramatic flourish. He turns his datapad towards Sarge. “I’ve had a _brilliant idea._ ”

“What’s this?” Sarge asks, leaning in suspiciously. “Is this more of your friend-fiction, or whatever it’s called?”

“No!” Donut cries, and then sighs. “The adventures of Gruf and Summons will just have to wait for another day… This is Romeo and Juliet!”

“You mean the play?”

“The very same,” Donut agrees, pulling his datapad back to himself.

“Those dirty Blues!” Sarge cries, clenching his fists. “Kidnapping the fair and sweet Red Juliet! Hoodwinking her!”

Donut blinks. “I don’t think that’s how the play goes, Sarge.”

“Of course it is!” Sarge cries, whipping around to face him. “Everyone knows Romeo and Juliet is the very first tragedy of the war!”

“Sarge,” Donut says carefully, “You _do_ know that--”

“ _Don’t bother,_ ” Lopez intones. “ _It’s not worth the effort._ ”

“Know what? Know that this is a brilliant idea? Of course I do, Donut!” Sarge cries, setting one foot on top of the diesel tankard dramatically.

“It is?”

“Of course it is! We’ll put on Romeo and Juliet--”

“Exactly!”

“--and lull the Monteblues into a sense of false security--”

“That’s _exactly_ what I was going to call them!” Donut says, beaming inside his helmet.

“--and strike them when they’re down! For the Capureds!”

“Wait,” Donut says, lowering his datapad. “What?”

“I want to be Tybalt! The most noble Red in Verona!”

Donut shrugs. As long as the show can go on, what’s the harm in letting Sarge think it’s a military operation?

* * *

 

“Fuck yeah, we’ll do it!” Tucker cries, jumping down from the low wall he and Wash were sitting on. “I’ve always said there should be more sexy plays in this canyon!”

“Oh, that’s great!” Caboose says. “I thought for sure you would not want to, because you are stupid,” he continues, relieved.

“Hey!” Tucker squawks.

“Tucker, I don’t think this is the play you’re thinking of,” Wash says tiredly, scrubbing a hand over his helmet. “Just for the record.”

Caboose thinks about it. “There is plenty of passion in Romeo and Juliet, Agent Washington,” he informs him serenely.

“Caboose is right!” Tucker says, and then pauses. “Caboose is right?”

“I am always right,” Caboose reminds him, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

Wash sighs. “So run this by me one more time,” he says patiently.

“ _Weeellll_ , I went for a walk! And then I saw Comrade Bagel on top of Red Base trying to talk to the sun with mirrors! So I said hello, and _he_ said, ‘Hey… you know what this looks like, right?’, and _I_ said, ‘A naked blonde man talking to me from the sky?’ and _he_ said, ‘No!’--”

“ _Summarize,_ Caboose,” Wash says, voice pained. “Can you summarize, please?”

Caboose pauses. “We decided that Romeo and Juliet is a wonderful idea,” he says after a moment.

Tucker groans. “You _said_ that already!”

“Well, Squad Leader Turnover said that! And then _I_ said, ‘Colonel Danish, that is the best idea you have ever had.’ and _he_ said ‘I still think my best idea was the lube slip and slide.’ and I agreed that it was a _very noble cause,_ but then!” Caboose pauses, sucking in a breath. “I wondered how we should decide the parts! And then we decided that it will be the Monteblues and the Capureds!” he finishes in a shout.

Tucker and Wash pause.

“Caboose,” Wash starts, with the same tone of voice he uses whenever Caboose has a _particularly_ good idea.

“This is gonna be _awesome,”_ Tucker cuts in. “I’ve seen the Monteblue and Capured movie, and it was _great._ Some real quality smut.”

“Tucker, there’s no sex in Romeo and Juliet,” Wash says exasperatedly. “And I don’t want to know why you think there is.”

“Can I be Romeo? Romeo gets all the chicks,” Tucker continues, ignoring Wash entirely.

“I am Romeo,” Caboose says smugly. “I get the chicks. Specialist Cupake is Juliet.”

“Ugh!” Tucker cries. “You can have it if _Donut_ is Juliet!”

“You are Mercutio,” Caboose says. “Because you are not really a shade of blue or a shade of red. And Washington! You can be two people!”

“Wait, how am I--”

“Sweet! Mercutio is _awesome,_ ” Tucker cries. “Gets to slay ladies on both sides with his sword, if you know what I mean!”

“I do not,” Caboose says. He looks at his wrist, where his drawn-on watch proclaims the time to be 17 o’clock. “Look at the time! I need to have a meeting with Director Poppy Seed!”

“Caboose,” Wash calls out weakly. “How am I supposed to be two people?”

“You will see, Agent Washington!” he says as he leaves, humming cheerfully to himself.

* * *

 

“All right, everyone!” Donut says from the wings. Or… the curtains of Red Base’s living room. Desperate times call for desperate measures, and since there’s nowhere to really put a _stage,_ they will just have to make do.

“ _Two houses, both alike in dignity,”_ Lopez begins. “ _Wait. There’s no reason for me to say any my lines correctly. This is stupid. Sarge does unspeakable things to robots. Sometimes Grif goes into Simmons’ room and doesn’t come out for the entire night, but no one else knows. Sometimes Tucker goes to Wash’s room, and everyone knows.”_

“Hm, that didn’t seem long enough, Lopez,” Donut says critically. “But that’s okay! Grif and Simmons, you’re up!”

Grif and Simmons enter the makeshift stage, which is really just the living room with all the furniture pushed to the sides. To everyone’s horror, Donut has outfitted them in period costumes. The costumes, of course, match their armor.

“Gregory, o’ my word, we’ll not carry coals,” Simmons says woodenly.

“What the _fuck_ does that even mean?” Grif responds.

“Grif,” Simmons hisses. “You’re _supposed_ to say ‘No, for then we’ll be colliers!’”

“Again,” Grif repeats, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “ _What the fuck does that even mean?_ ”

Simmons sighs, and then draws the terrifyingly realistic weapon Caboose created for the performance. “Whatever. I strike quickly, being moved,” he says, swiping his sword at Grif half-heartedly.

Grif jumps back. “Hey! You’re not supposed to hit _me!_ It’s supposed to be at _him!_ ” he says, jerking a thumb towards Wash, who is looming eerily in the curtains.

There’s a pause. Tucker shoves Wash out onto the stage, snickering.

“Uh,” Wash begins, pulling a piece of paper out of his costume. “Do you… bite your thumb at me?” he reads, incredulous.

“ _Wash,”_ Caboose says, aghast. “You are supposed to be off script by now!”

“Caboose, this is our first rehearsal!” Tucker replies.

“It is the dress rehearsal!” Caboose counters, affronted.

“That doesn’t mean we automatically know what we’re doing!” Tucker says.

Grif sighs loudly. “ _Simmons_ bites his thumb. Sucks it in his sleep.”

“And how do you know that?” Tucker leers, leaning into the stage.

“No, no, no!” Donut says, stamping his foot. “This is all wrong!”

Before he can make corrections, Sarge jumps out from behind the couch, brandishing the Ring of Shotgun at Washington menacingly. “Montablue!! Aha! I caught you, you dirty Blue!”

Wash jumps back as Sarge starts waving his weapon around. “What the-- Sarge, _is this where all of our extra shotguns went?_ ” he asks, voice ascending into a screech.

Church sighs from his and Carolina’s position on one of the other couches against the walls. “This is the best version of Romeo and Juliet I’ve ever seen,” he says.

“This is horrifying,” Carolina says, deadpan. “It’s awful.”

“ _I know,”_ Church says gleefully.

Donut groans. “Let’s just move on. The entire atmosphere is _wrong!_ Completely flaccid!”

Everyone recoils slightly. Donut ignores them as he flips through his script.

“First Mate Pumpkin Spice Latte,” Caboose says serenely. “I would like to do our scene very much.”

Donut considers this. “Well, I wouldn’t want to skip the foreplay normally, but I think it’s best to just push right in this time, Caboose!” he says in agreement. “Actors! Clear the stage!”

Everyone shuffles back to the curtains obediently. Ten minutes of yelling and shuffling furniture later, the scene is reset to the rose garden. Donut perches atop one of the couches, which has been balanced precariously on its side, rearranging the skirts of his costume meticulously.

Caboose wanders into the center of the room, and then startles, as though he’s just noticed Donut on top of the couch.

“By soft!” he yells. “What light through yonder window breaks! It is east! And Juliet is the sun! Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon--”

“Did someone say kill the envious blues?” Sarge interrupts, charging into the scene.

“Sarge!” Donut shrieks. “Be careful! I can’t keep it up much longer! There’s a lot of work that goes into this position, you know!”

But it’s too late. Sarge’s shotgun monstrosity fires in several directions. Carolina and Church are immediately in motion, grabbing anyone in reach and dragging them down into cover.

A bullet ricochets off of Donut’s perch with enough force to topple it, and Donut screams as his dress catches on the foot of the couch and rips.

“Oh no! Juliet!” Caboose cries. “I will save your honor!” He tackles the couch, which only serves to slam it backwards into the wall.

“Whuzzat?” Sarge demands, whirling around. Wash smacks the Ring of Shotgun out of his hands while he’s distracted.

“I don’t know what’s happening,” Simmons says as the situation deteriorates around them.

“A _masterpiece,_ Simmons,” Grif says, dragging him back onto the only couch untouched by the chaos.

“ _And they all lived happily ever after,”_ Lopez intones as the Ring of Shotgun misfires again, blasting a hole into the floor.

* * *

 

The play ends soon after when Carolina gets control of the errant Ring of Shotgun and promptly snaps it in half. Sarge goes quiet, dumbfounded by this quick and sudden defeat. He’s the only other one that seem upset about the whole thing except for Donut and Caboose.

They sit outside of Blue Base, Donut still wearing his ripped dress and Caboose wearing his entire costume.

“I think it went well,” Caboose says, leaning back on his hands and staring up at the night sky.

Donut sighs, picking at a stray thread. “I _knew_ we shouldn’t have skipped the foreplay. Everyone finished too early.”

Caboose hums in agreement. “We can try again once we get back home!” he says reassuringly.

Donut wrinkles his nose. “Shakespeare at _Blood Gulch_?” he says with distaste. “Absolutely not. It’s just not right!”

“Why not?” Caboose asks, sounding hurt.

“The atmosphere is all wrong! Not nearly romantic enough!”

“I think it’s perfect,” Caboose says, looking away with a haughty sniff.

Donut sighs. Now is as good a time as ever. “Besides,” he says lightly. “I’m not going back to Blood Gulch.”

Caboose swivels his head back. “What? But you have to!” he cries. “It’s _home!_ ”

“I keep meaning to mention it,” Donut says. “But Doc and I are going on a vacation! We’ve really earned it!”

“Oh, well that sounds nice,” Caboose agrees, suddenly placated. “Where are you going?”

“There’s this entire planet that’s completely organic! Non GMO, gluten free, nudist, everything!”

“Glue ten free? Do you get ten free sticks of glue?”

“What? No, Caboose,” Donut starts, and then considers his response. “Never mind.”

“Well, I will miss you!” Caboose announces, standing up and extending his arm to Donut. Even once Donut pulls himself up, he doesn’t let go. “It has been an honor working with you. Maybe one day we can put on other Shakespeare plays together!”

Donut beams. “I’d like that a lot, Caboose.”

“I will miss you a lot,” Caboose repeats, frowning.

“Oh, I’ll miss you, too, Caboose!” Donut cries, pulling him into a hug. “I’m glad we did this. Was it as fun for you as it was for me?”

“Definitely,” Caboose says seriously. He glances back at the base. “Well, by now Tucker probably needs me to do something for him, so I’d better go inside. Good night, Staff Sergeant Snickerdoodle.”

He leaves. Soon after, Donut hears Tucker begin to yell and smiles. In just a few short days, the UNSC ships will arrive to take everyone away, and he and Doc will begin their own adventure. He’ll miss them, but he’s glad that after all this time, the Reds and Blues have become friends. Maybe the Montagues and the Capulets could’ve learned from them.

**Author's Note:**

> Catch me shrieking at all times at [tumblr dot com!!!](http://hakanakiki.tumblr.com)


End file.
